


For The Life Of Me

by imyourplusone



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: F/M, One Shot, Poisoned Red, based off 4.15 promo and stills, because I can't wait for the episode to air ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 11:12:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9721730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imyourplusone/pseuds/imyourplusone
Summary: Lizzy, it appears our next blacklister comes with an expiration date. Mine, to be exact.





	

**Author's Note:**

> One-shot based on the episode description for 4.15 in which Red is dosed with an unknown poison and Liz races against time to save him. Basically a fanfic dream. Also based on a few promotional pics namely Red sitting on the stairs, a boxing gym and one scary snake.

_present hour…._

He's always known he would meet a violent end. The scars on his body left by flame and steel the proof he would not go gentle into that good night. He has never welcomed death's release but imagining the quickness of it had always given some measure of comfort. The fleeting moment before a bullet or bomb ended this strange journey he has traveled was at least bearable.

This he could endure. This he had made peace with.

But not…

Not this poison eating away at him. Not this slow decline as it seeps into his mind and whatever is left of his soul. The bearable has become unbearable. Where is the roar of fire, the crack of the rifle?

He has never imagined this silent death.

All from a sip of wine. He'd laugh if there were strength left to do so. Betrayed by the vine he holds sacred. Yes, his enemy knew him well enough to know how to cause the greatest pain.

* * *

_five hours ago…._

"Raymond, there is no other way. We need to leave."

He hears Dembe's words as if from far away but knows the man is only a few feet to his right. Sees him in the periphery as he stares at the phone in his hand. What a conversation to have in this manner.

Perhaps it is better that he can't see her face as he speaks the words. And that she won't see his.

_Lizzy, it appears our next blacklister comes with an expiration date. Mine, to be exact._

The humor he has no energy to laugh at confuses her. There is only silence that meets him on the other end as she takes in his words describing a lunch with several business associates, the illness that began before the last course arrived, followed by the dreadful certainty as his mind began rewinding the events of the day.

The second bottle of wine.

The one with the faint trace of…..something. His sharp palette that allows him this deep appreciation of the grape also comes at a cost. The ability to discern the slightest variance in taste but with the business at hand it was pushed to the back of his mind and the bottle passed from glass to glass.

What kind of game he finds himself the center of he still has no idea. Is there an outside force controlling the players and with one move they will all be wiped from the board? Or was this unknown enemy at the table with him and it is simply a game of _and then there was one?_ The one left standing holding a tainted bottle of wine.

He has no idea.

"Listen to me, Elizabeth. It is some type of slow moving toxin. None of the others are showing symptoms therefore it was either designed specifically for me or somehow slipped into my glass and only mine. You need to find The Apothecary. I don't normally go in for poison but this tastes like his work."

He notices the change in her voice immediately. From disbelief to agent in a second.

"Reddington, I want every bottle and anything else you touched since entering that building bagged and ready for pickup. The FBI will handle the toxicology screen and we'll need a blood sample. Where can I meet you?"

It's better this way. Focus on the task at hand and not the unspoken words or all the regret that hangs between them. Only the next move in the game. Then the next after that, and on and on until its conclusion.

He gives her the address and one more bit of information.

"Tell them to focus on snake venom. This feels very much like the time I was bitten by a banded sea krait while diving in the Andaman Sea."

"I thought it was a lionfish."

"I'm sorry?"

"A lionfish. You told me you were stung by a lionfish and nursed back to health by a band of sea gypsies."

"Oh, well that was another trip. Honestly, when I think about it, I've never had an uneventful vacation to the Andaman Sea—"

"Reddington…."

There it is, the familiar exasperation in her voice. Except there is something else as well. Fear.

The exhale of her breath audible through the phone and the silence that follows stretches out for a few moments.

"Raymond, we are going to find an antidote and then we are going to find who did this to you. Do you hear me? Now we need to get going. I'll see you shortly."

She hangs up not waiting for a reply and he is back to staring at the phone in his hand.

_Raymond._

That was unexpected as was the fear in her voice and the softness that entered when it dropped low almost to a whisper. As if she were convincing herself as well as him.

This divide between them stretching as far as he can see and suddenly out of nowhere a closing of the chasm, so close that one or the other could cross and perhaps remain on the same side.

He recalls the lionfish and the gypsy who saved him, the one who kissed him on the cheek.

The burst of sunlight, like another ray of light.

_It made nearly dying well worth it._

He hopes so. Oh, how he hopes so.

* * *

_present hour..._

He thinks about moving from the chair to the bed but suspects it will be easier to breathe if he remains upright. The vice is closing in as he concentrates on pulling air into his lungs. The unwavering rhythm of it.

Focuses on slowing his racing heart in a last attempt to keep the poison at bay. Inhale. Exhale. Steady and measured.

He had entered his bedroom in the current safehouse and simply collapsed in the chair near the fireplace. There is no fire, however, no light at all except a small table lamp and this is just how he wants it.

Perhaps he should lose the three piece suit at least, but now that he is sitting he has no desire to rise again. His customary tie has long since been discarded as the shortness of breath worsened and for the first time he can't recall where he left the fedora. Therefore his suit, the last vestiges of the gentleman criminal, will remain and perhaps afford him some measure of dignity.

The silence is loud in his ears and he knows the reason for it. He had passed Dembe as they entered the mansion giving the man's arm one final squeeze and made his way up the stairs, like a wounded animal seeking only isolation at the end. Dembe will not approve but will abide by his wishes knowing it is not his choice to make.

* * *

_four hours ago…._

Lizzy paces the boxing gym that has been turned into a mobile medical unit and tries to concentrate on what is being said.

Only Dembe had arrived with the evidence she had requested along with several vials of Raymond's blood and she won't even ask how he accomplished that in so short a time.

But she had expected to see him to judge for herself the physical toil the toxin is having on his body and the acute disappointment at seeing Dembe arrive alone is hard to ignore.

She closes her eyes and goes over their conversation. The slight breathlessness she recognizes now. The effort it took for him to speak at times as he fought the nausea she now knows must be one of the myriad of symptoms he is currently fighting.

Dammit, why isn't he here?

"Dembe, where is he? Why didn't he come with you and why didn't you make him? He needs to be here receiving medical treatment not off on whatever scheme he is up to at present!"

By the looks on the faces of those around her, she realizes she has interrupted someone, she knows not who, and doesn't care. She had expected him here and now she has no idea where he is, not that she ever does.

"Elizabeth, there is something he needed to do first. He felt very strongly about it. Call him, he will answer."

Dembe looks at her with sympathy and she attempts to get hold of her emotions. At least they are already working to identify the poison. At least Aram and Samar are piecing together clues in an attempt to locate the elusive Apothecary.

How very Shakespearean and she only hopes this tale does not end in tragedy.

Walking into the makeshift tented patient room for privacy, she retrieves her phone to make the call, but looking around, that familiar sensation runs up her spine. The memory of a gunshot in the street and blood and danger as the Cabal closed in.

Watching as they cut into his chest until she was forced to leave to locate the interface for the fulcrum with only Mr. Kaplan and Dembe's vigil at his side giving her the strength to walk from the warehouse.

Mr. Kaplan.

As her mind travels to another surgical suite but this one set up for her. The only reason her child was safely delivered that day was due to the foresight Raymond had of the danger from Kirk.

And she thanked him with betrayal.

Turning her back to the others just beyond the plastic, she brings her hand to the railing on the stretcher and holds on. Concentrates on the cold metal and not the guilt overwhelming everything.

She needs to think. She needs to hear his voice.

"Elizabeth—"

"Where are you? You are supposed to be here where there are medical personnel available. What could possibly be more important than that right now?"

He can hear the panic in her voice and tells himself to go slow. Concentrate on what lies just before him.

"Lizzy, until the toxin is identified there is not much we can do. There are instructions I need to give in case—"

But she won't hear it.

"No, we are going to find the source. Your business is not the most important thing right now."

"It isn't my business, but safeguards that must be put in place for you and Agnes. This _is_ the most important thing," he says, leaving no room for argument.

She hears the sharp intake of breath as he finishes his statement and curses his resolve to take care of her and her child even as she is touched by it. So deeply touched by his constancy that the guilt returns to cut like a knife.

"Raymond, I—"

"Agent Keen."

She turns to see Cooper waving her over and can only hope there has been some breakthrough in the case.

"I have to go but please hurry. There are treatments we can try in the meantime. Do you hear? You have to keep fighting. No pain, no gain."

He didn't think it possible to smile but finds himself doing just that and actually chuckles at her words.

"Are you reading from the poster near the ring? Shall I expect more boxing references as we run the gambit until I'm down for the count?"

"Well, it seemed appropriate at the moment," she says and the laughter in her voice is the sweetest sound.

"I'm glad to have you in my corner, Lizzy."

"Don't throw in the towel, okay? We're not finished, not by a long shot."

"That's horse racing but also appropriate, I suppose," he says and feels his resolve returning, as if there is strength in his legs to go a few more rounds.

"Horse racing or boxing or whatever, just get a move on!"

Once again she disconnects without waiting for a response and he does as she asks. Rises and gets a move on.

* * *

_present hour…._

There is the ghost of a smile as he recalls their conversation, but that energy reserve has been depleted.

This terrible thirst is unending and he wishes for a few sips of water. Perhaps it could dampen the waves of nausea but he won't call Dembe. He doesn't have the strength to hold up under the look of pity and also the pain he knows he would see and so he will remain alone waiting for this round to end.

* * *

_three hours ago…_

He has finally made it to the Post Office and finding Aram and Samar hard at work tracing the obscure path to the Apothecary he leaves them to it, having nothing to offer at present. Intending to wait in Cooper's office he doesn't make it past the stairs and sits, unable to go on.

His energy is waxing and waning now. There are short bursts of adrenaline as he pushes himself to the next move in the game but all too soon it is gone and this oppressive fatigue takes hold again.

After a hurried conversation with Marvin and the last attempts to discover his true enemy, he found there were no countermoves left to make. So he has done the only thing he could think of. Return to the place of her work, in the hopes of seeing her once more. Hear her voice in person this time and see the face he pictures when he closes his eyes to sleep.

But she is not here. Still out following a lead and now it is impossible to make his legs move further up those stairs.

How long he sits leaning against the handrail he does not now. Feeling a chill he hunkers down in his overcoat and closes his eyes for a moment and it seems only a second later that Dembe is shaking his arm as Lizzy steps off the elevator followed by Cooper and Ressler.

He watches her for a moment before she becomes aware of their presence. Immediately notices the agitation as she charges into the command center heading straight to Aram's desk. The worry on her face as she receives an update. He doesn't even process the words that are being spoken, so focused is he on taking her in. Committing each feature, each gesture to memory as he has done so many times before.

Hoping it will sustain him through what will come and knowing that nothing else possibly could.

She turns to see Dembe standing to the back of the room and doesn't immediately recognize Raymond sitting hunched on the stairs, but yes, there he is at last. Simply acting on instinct and not caring what the others might think, she goes to him.

Never takes her eyes from him as she approaches and kneels on the bottom step so they are level with one another and reaches out to take hold of his forearms as he does the same. She sees everything, from the now obviously labored breathing to the tiny beads of sweat dotting his pale face.

And his smile now that he can see her clearly and how it reaches his eyes.

"You're a hard man to track down."

"Not too hard to poison, I'm afraid. I must be slipping."

"We've all been worried, even Ressler," she says with a smile.

"Lizzy, there is no use hitting below the belt at a time like this," and it feels so good to make her laugh softly. To have that to take with him.

"Alright, here's what we know…"

He listens and tries to keep up through the fog that has entered his mind. The neurotoxin coursing through him is indeed from a snake venom. Slipped, not into the wine, but coated on his empty glass as they switched from the white to the red. The poison manipulated making traditional anti-venom treatments unsuccessful. He offers a wry smile at that knowing the injections he has already received have done little to help.

"We're getting closer to him, but I need you to hang on. I'm going to get that damn antidote," she says with such feeling, tightening her grip on his arms, he can't help but believe her right then.

She watches as he opens his mouth to respond but closes it just as quickly and her answer is a simple nod. That will do and they watch each other without speaking. She willing her energy to flow into him and he attempting to draw strength from her.

"Raymond, I—"

"Agent Keen! Agent Keen, I have it. I mean him. I have him!"

Chaos erupts as Aram triangulates and does whatever magic he normally does and they do indeed have the Apothecary. Cooper calls the tactical unit and Samar and Ressler are already heading to the elevator.

It's time for her to go.

Looking back, she sees his eyes still focused on her and wonders if the news that they are closing in on his cure even registered.

"Our conversations keep getting interrupted today. We'll continue this later, promise me."

He could never deny her anything. Never let go of the hope that he will see her again.

"I promise, Elizabeth."

There is no more time as the elevator is being held for her but just as she is pulling back she hesitates a moment before brushing his cheek with her lips. With that she is gone and he brings a hand to the place of her last touch.

Like a burst of light.

Lizzy reaches the doors to the elevator and looks in the direction of the stairs but can no longer see him from this angle. There is nothing she can do but let the doors close and prepare for the mission ahead.

"Well Keen, I didn't realize you and Reddington are—"

"Agent Ressler, I suggest you think twice about whatever statement you are about to make and after that I'd appreciate you keeping it to yourself."

There is a faint cough from Director Cooper at the rear of the car but no other conversation takes place until the agents arrive at their transport vehicles.

* * *

_present hour…_

He has no more energy for the fight and the words left unsaid will have to remain that way. All sense of time passing and the world moving outside his window has ceased.

In all his years and with every close call he has never had the sensation of his life flashing before his eyes. Perhaps there wasn't time or he was too busy fighting till the bitter end but never has he known this crushing fatigue. It is a constant now and he finds himself giving into it.

Strange, the images that cross his mind. His parents laughing on the front porch swing. The day he enlisted in the Navy. The girl that asked him to the eighth grade Sadie Hawkins. His daughter blowing bubbles in the yard. Dembe receiving his college degree. Agnes safe again in her crib. The first time he met Kate.

He closes his eyes and draws in a shaky breath of regret.

Finally, the images come and go until there is only her.

Elizabeth.

When she walked down the steps the day of his surrender. The flash of a pen in his neck and the feel of her as they danced. How her hair was whipped around by the wind when she emerged from the cab to stop him from leaving. The way she smelled when he held her close. The softness of her hand in his.

He thinks of everything at once. How she crossed the street to meet him the night of her release. How they held on so tightly not wanting to let go. He sees every expression that has crossed her face since he has known her. Happiness to pain to betrayal and back again. The smile when he handed her the clock and perhaps they had begun to move beyond the past. If they could have just gotten it right.

But he doesn't want to think of that now, what is left undone between them as the cargo ship comes to mind and he sees the brightness of the star in the north sky.

The images come faster now and he lets them wash over him.

Feels the cold of the tile as Yaabari forces him to his knees. The barrel of the gun close to his head and there is the fleeting astonishment he wasn't able to maneuver his way out of this. To think he will end his days having been sold in auction to a bounty hunter. It passes understanding, but Elizabeth and the boy are safe, that is all that matters.

The chill of the room is seeping into his body and its ugliness is difficult to look at. Closing his eyes, one last image enters his mind. He can't even place it in memory. Simply the face of the last woman he will ever love and without thinking he whispers her name to the heavens.

_Lizzy._

"Raymond, I'm here. Can you hear me? Open your eyes and come back to me. Fight, do you hear."

* * *

Somehow the words make it through and he opens his eyes to find himself in bed with oxygen flowing through a tube at his nose and an IV attached to his arm with what can only be the antidote dripping into his body. There is no recollection of having been moved from the chair to the bed nor any sense of how much time has elapsed.

He tries to clear the confusion of his mind and focuses on the faint outlines of the medical equipment from the mobile unit now at his bedside. It seems the treatment came to him instead of the other way round.

Feeling the bed shift at his side he glances back to find Elizabeth sitting next to him and she has never been more beautiful than at this moment he never thought would come.

"Welcome back. You will live to fight another day."

She returns his faint smile with one of her own and reaches out to wipe his brow with a damp cloth. He closes his eyes to its blissful coolness and without having to ask feels her hand slip behind his head, helping raise it for him to take a few sips of water. She fusses with his blanket for a moment or two before taking his hand to place in her lap.

"Will we ever run out of boxing idioms, do you think," is his raspy reply when he finally finds the strength to respond.

"Oh, I still have a few more stored up so we'll see how long they last. When we run out there is always horse racing."

The weakness in his voice is painful to hear but how grateful she is to hear it at all. How close they came to losing….

But she will think about that later. Without doubt she will think of the events of this day and indeed how close they came to losing him. How close she came to this loss that has overwhelmed her in its intensity. The desperation arising from the deepest part of her and she can only compare it to when Agnes was taken.

She tries to keep the image of him slumped in his chair from her mind. Something else to think of later when she feels able to cope. The chaos of the scene as the medical team entered and they fought the battle he no longer had strength to. The uncertainty until finally the whisper of her name passed his lips as he made his way back to her.

She never wants to forget this feeling of loss even knowing it does not compare with his. He once felt the same for her and never again will she lose sight of that.

With every breath he is stronger, his mind clearer. He watches the emotions pass over her features, from pain and fear to something he has no word for.

"Tell me what happened. Who hired—"

"No, none of that. Not until you're stronger. There is nothing to be done about any of it tonight so for now let that antidote do its work. I had the unit brought here so it wouldn't seem like...the times before."

He doesn't miss the catch in her voice or how she rushes to continue past those awful memories. "Just talk to me for a few minutes. I promise we won't be interrupted this time."

"But Agnes? You should go."

"Baz picked Agnes up from the sitter and she's with Dembe. I'm right where I want to be and you'll see her in the morning."

She squeezes his hand in an attempt to calm his worry, for one night at least. It will all be there tomorrow and they will deal with it in time. As they always do, but hopefully a little better in future.

"Raymond, let it go for now," and because she can't seem to stop the words that come from that place of desperation, she continues, "We almost lost each other today and I find….the thought of that hard to bear."

Her words still his agitated mind as he focuses again on her face, the steadiness of her gaze and the emotion behind her eyes that is just for him. All other thoughts fade away and here in this moment there is only the two of them in the world. "What would you like to talk about?"

He sees her relax as the smile he loves returns to her features.

"Tell me a story."

She knows it is a bit selfish and that what he really needs is rest, but she can't help it. Just a few more minutes until the fear closing in on her subsides completely. Until her heart stops racing and perhaps they may both sleep tonight.

Tomorrow he will be better and they will talk more. About all the things they haven't said, foolishly thinking there would be time enough until time almost proved them wrong.

"Lizzy, for the life of me I can't think of a single one."

His voice is already stronger and she sighs with relief. They always seem to find each other before it is too late and maybe they'll talk about that, too.

"Well then, I have a story. Do you know I had to wrangle a snake into an ice chest for you. Ressler is scared of them apparently and was no help at all. What a time to tell me after we've been searching for, wait for it, snakes all day!"

He falls asleep to the sound of her voice and the image of one poor snake being chased into an ice chest by Lizzy and a broom.

* * *

_sunrise…._

He wakes to the faint pink light of morning and looks around making sure he wasn't dreaming and that his hazy memories of the night before are in fact real. But the oxygen is still flowing and the IV is still dripping and besides feeling incredibly hungover, he feels incredibly alive.

Glancing over he sees Lizzy asleep next to him. Sometime in the night exhaustion must have taken over and she crawled under to covers, fully dressed by the looks of it, and passed out. He wants to reach out and brush the hair away that has fallen in her face but is afraid of disturbing her. Lord knows how long she stayed awake looking after him.

There is a pang of guilt that she is away from her home, away from Agnes until her words come back to him. She is right where she wants to be and he finds that he trusts them and believes them.

_Has anyone ever helped you?_

He will let her this time and try to do the same. Perhaps they will get it right.

 _It made nearly dying well worth it._ Realizing he never fully understood that sentiment until this moment, he closes his eyes to sleep again, knowing she will be the one to wake him.

With some reference to boxing, no doubt.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Also many thanks to TravelingSong as always.


End file.
